Fueled by the power of the Fulcrum, Miles found himself in the familiar Mind World with its dichromatic seas.

That was simply what he had expected.

It was not that long ago when he had last attempted this, managing to walk upon these same seas (a few steps were still valid), but now, all that felt like ancient history. The fragments of a life long passed.

Contrary to his newfound ‘life’ and re-beating heart, this world was dying.

What had once been a strange yet beautiful ocean, had been repulsed by grotesque bubbling ichor.

A dark poison that dominated the ocean, taking over nine tenths of the space and leaving little else.

The sky above him reflected it, shattered and littered with cracks as if a broken mirror.

The source of it all was under him.

There was no longer a line between, a mystical boundary that separated two seas. No, all that was here was a rotting scar.

A viscous, festering wound, that spluttered out demonic tar, corrupting what remained of this world.

The sheer sight of all this corruption sent a pang of agony rippling through him, throwing his mind into complete disarray.

And yet, neither the seas nor the skies reflected his broken concentration. There were no storms or churning waves. Their connection was broken.

Gritting his teeth, Miles pushed through the pain, retaining his focus onto what little of the scarlet and white seas remained.

Having fought over scraps and won, the bloodied, crimson waters took the noticeable lead.

Miles' gaze fixed upon the occasional pool of luminous, silverine waters. resilient pools of white. So drastic was the difference in sheer volume, they were on the verge of being diluted away.

But somehow it was still there, warring against its oppressors.

As if answering this mystery, the reason itself appeared.

Manifested from thin air, a shadow that was formless yet formed.

Unclear and lacking details, beyond the point that it was some manner of colorless, quadrupedal silhouette.

Miles could not decide what it was, but what he did know was that the mere sight of its form eased his pain.

The strange shade moved over the broken seas, slow and patient. It seemed to be limping, at least until the moment it noticed him.

Somehow, he was not surprised by its reaction.

Miles could swear he saw hackles rise on its ghostly mane, and the shadow roared in boundless rage.

Next think he knew, its deathly maw had snapped over him, sinking into him.

Miles all but screamed in agony, grabbing at his chest, feeling something had pierced through his heart.

Indescribable torture, but mercifully temporary and instantaneous.

Miles gasped in the little air he could, feeling beads of sweat running down his face.

It still took him a minute to realize that his meditative focus had broken. He had returned to reality, back upon the stone dais, underneath the Cypress tree.

All that, from barely a minute of meditation.

Miles stared out into the forest with glazed eyes.

He had known something was wrong with himself.

He had felt it, he had sensed it, and here it was.

His internal world was ruined, and he had willfully ignored it.

Zhan Shen often said that the mind world reflected its practitioner and their ‘spirit’ at a fundamental level.

Well, his soul, spirit or whatever, was in complete tatters.

Miles gritted his teeth and slammed a fist into the stone dais.

He felt the skin rip apart, but he didn’t care.

A second and third fist cracked down, blood splattered the stone, but he let it.

The throbbing pain of a bleeding fist was comforting, familiar, and contrasted the slow agony over his heart.

But he deserved it all, for he had failed to see the signs.

Miles had glossed over the impossibility of what it meant to be both Wurkan and Vawul. He had fallen for the tricks and influence of some mindless Beast within him, ruined the balance, and destroyed his own mind world.

No wonder that animal thing inside had ripped him in two. He would have done the same.

Miles let out an exasperated breath.

He let his head fall back, laying still against the trunk of Cypress tree.

This whole doorway trial had been a terrible experience.

He could not have been any farther from his usual calm, controlled self.

Perhaps it was the blood thirst of the Vawul and whatever else had come from the brief influence of Wurkan, but his current predicament all stemmed from his mutilated self.

The (un)balance.

From the term alone, it was a fundamental problem. A problem that could only be resolved in one of two ways.

By increasing the weight of the lesser or decreasing the side that was greater.

Weaken the Vawul or strengthen the Wurkan.

Somehow, Pack’s message had explained it all.

Leveling or gaining the skills of any one side would strengthen it.

This had to be why he had been advised to not select the Vawulan skills before.

However, Detect was somehow different.

It was a skill that originated from a technique crafted to find and hunt down Vampires. No wonder he had felt relief the moment he learned it.

Miles wiped off the sweat from his forehead. ‘It all makes such perfect sense, how could I not have realized it sooner?’

He paused, a slow frown appearing over his face.

No, that was not entirely true.

It did make sense, but it wasn’t an obvious conclusion either.

He had noticed this pattern before, but he had never been as confident as he was right now.

Even now, he lacked concrete evidence, but he just knew.

That was when Miles considered the Cypress tree his head leaned against, and the circular grove of the same trees that surrounded him.

‘Something about this place has improved my… comprehension? My… understanding of… spirituality?’

It felt wrong to say something that could not be so easily put to words, but he couldn’t think of better words.

Well, there was also the more obvious explanation.

Miles eyed the stone dais he sat upon, hands moving along the stone carvings, feeling the desperation to hunt etched within it.

The Tier I Fulcrum: Seat of a Wurkan Nayaka.

Whatever that meant, what he did know was that it granted him an effect of +100 to Influence. So perhaps, this was all an effect of the apparently misunderstood Influence attribute.

Whatever the case...

Miles straightened his back, returning his hands to its meditative posture.

Who knows?

One, or more of the two solutions might just be hiding in plain sight.

***

Now aware of the devastated state of his mind world, Miles managed to retain his concentration this time.

That was the only positive improvement.

With the flash of some familiar shadow, something teared into his flesh.

A current of intense pain rippled through his body, destroying his focus, and throwing him out to reality.

Gritting his teeth, Miles persevered and tried again.

Barely a minute later, he was clutching his heart and gasping against the cypress tree.

He tried again, and again, but as soon as he managed to focus, the strange shadow would appear and rip out a part of him.

At one point, his anger peaked enough to force him to retaliate.

But despite many attempts, all he could do was gasp in agony as the creature managed to out-maneuver him and appear from some blind angle.

All Miles could do was growl in agony as he was pushed back to reality, every, single, time.

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Seething with rage, and out of sheer stubbornness, he kept at it. Trying ti hit back at the shade every time it dared to attack.

Eventually, just once, when a bubble of ichorous tar splattered over a pool of luminous white, the creature stumbled, and and Miles managed to punch it right in its snout, sending the animal whining and yelping as if it had been wronged.

Unfortunately, his focus wasn’t perfect. All it took was too wide of a swing, causing a single drop of the dark ichor to splatter onto the back of his hand, and…

Miles awoke, biting back the scream that was crawling its way through his throat.

He had to muffle himself to hold back from making noise, for when he opened his eyes, it was still there.

That same drop of black ichor had appeared upon his real hand, sizzling and cooking through his flesh like searing acid.

Somehow, it felt worse than being cooked underneath the sun.

Miles reacted in a frenzy, flicking his hand here and there until he managed to wipe it clean over a nearby shrub.

His hand showed the signs of a third-degree burn, something still vaguely burning over his skin, but… his attention was elsewhere.

As if aging in fast-forward, the unfortunate plant literally decayed before his eyes. And after it did, it even spread through the nearby soil, killing the grass within a rough radial distance of two or three inches.

Thankfully the effect of the liquid dissipated soon enough, as if its energy had run out. But all that remained of the shrub and the grass around it were shriveled, dead things.

Miles blinked in disbelief.

‘Did... did Mind World meditation just manage to affect reality?’

Yes, it had, and it was definitely something added to the list of things he would pester old Zhan about.

The effects upon his person were healed soon enough, the mummified plant left a lasting lesson.

From then on, Miles didn’t dare to fight back. If that were the result of having a mere drop fall on him, had he actually fallen into the ichor…

He shuddered.

Miles had half a mind to just give up on this introspective meditation and just focus on finding a different solution but…

The stone dais was cool to the touch, and the cypress tree held his back, comforting him.

So, he kept at it.

Though the pain of fangs tearing into his chest were not as bad as being burnt by the ichor, it came close, and Miles had no intention of suffering through it without retaliating.

So, he started to do something different.

Whenever he brought himself into the mind world and focused, he would let go the moment the merciless shade appeared.

It was a bit tricky to get the timing right, but after a few close bites, he managed it.

It was very strange to focus and un-focus, again and again, but he had no other choice, and the shadow creature didn’t seem to mind.

Every single time, it reacted the same. A howl, a thunderous rumbling that echoed its anger, followed by a sudden rush, only for him to vanish just before it could reach him.

Having repeated this dance enough, eventually, Miles stopped focusing on the mind world and began to observe this shadow in greater detail.

The more he focused, the more its ‘shadow’ nature reduced, leaving what seemed to be some sort of furred animal.

Miles considered it with curiosity, eventually managing to see in greater detail.

Contrary to its rage and merciless attacks, what he found was a weak, fading thing. A ghost of an animal, covered in tattered patches of fur, its flesh mangled and wounds festering with pus.

Miles homed in on these wounds, and he could not help but grimace in secondhand pain, for every single one held some amount of that ichorous tar, bubbling upon flesh and skin like fermented acid.

If the pain he had felt from a single drop of the liquid carried over, he couldn’t believe how this creature had the clarity of mind to even stand.

Miles actually felt a bit sorry for it now, but he continued his meditation.

Eventually, his focus upon the wolf had manifested so clearly that he could actually… smell it.

A musty, musky scent, mangled with the stench of something burnt and dying.

Miles blinked.

In a strange moment of clarity, their eyes met.

For just a moment, they saw each other as they were.

The eyes of a creature enraged and maddened by corruption, to the point it cared not for life. A creature exhausted and tortured by a thankless task to the point it sought death just to rest.

A formless ghost in the shape of a wolf, the Wurkan equivalent of the Beast Within.

This… This was his Lupine Soul or, what remained of it.

***

The Wurkan spirit stared into the depths of his eyes, the same as he did, and through those golden orbs, Miles could see it for what it was.

But what it saw in him, he could not tell.

A moment passed as man and wolf remained locked in silence.

The wolf made no move to strike, only the edges of its shadow-like form betraying the slightest of movement, and thus, passed many moments more.

Miles was rather fond of wolves. The fact that they were closely associated with the effigy of House Lykaon played no small part in it.

Maybe that was why he did what he did.

Slowly, he reached out, right hand extending towards the patient beast.

A growl echoed through the world, rippling through the tri-colored seas, but it petered out very soon, and… that was it.

The wolf did nothing more, satisfied to stare with unblinking eyes. Emboldened, Miles reached further.

His fingers were a hair’s breadth away when…

He heard the thundering snarl. Only after lightning fangs had ripped through his brazen hand.

For a second time, Miles was thrown out of the mind world, gasping in pain. It still pierced through his heart though it was a limb that was affected.

Miles heaved heavy breaths, withstanding the agony, only to realize it vanished almost soon after?

‘Somehow… it feels better?’

It was as if that bite had fixed something that had been troubling him for a while now.

Seated upon the stone dais, Miles could almost feel the reason. It was because he was now… more balanced.

He forced himself to return to the mind world, curious for answers if nothing else.

Dodging the wolf had not achieved much, so once again, he pushed through the fear of pain and attempted the same as he had before.

Extending his hand outward in a bold attempt to pat the wolf’s head. He had thought of it as a potentially friendly exchange but…

Another snarl echoed through the realm, and this time, Miles understood.

Disrespectful, mannerless, against the ways of the mother, treated as if a pet.

With that, this attempt too went about as well as one would expect.

Miles’ hand was ripped apart again, and he was thrown back to reality.

He tried again, this time keeping what he had learned in mind. Since the former had not worked, he extended his hand, as if offering a handshake.

A few minutes later Miles was grimacing in barely restrained pain, again. That didn’t work.

But he tried again, and… again.

Quite a few failed attempts later, Miles was heaving in exhaustion, his clothes slick with sweat as he leaned against the oak and the stone dais, feeling the breeze of the forest sweeping through his hair.

He didn’t want to give up like this. Not when he had been ripped apart by the lupine spirit so many times.

There was something he was missing here. Something more to be gained.

But he also could not waste his time here.

So, in the end, he compromised and decided to try one last time. If this did not work, he would move on.

Miles let the mind world manifest around him, the seas and the skies as broken as they were.

The wolf paced closer, coming to a stop to observe his actions, exactly as it had done the last few hours.

This would be his last attempt, so this time Miles did not hurry.

An animal that was unnaturally picky about respect and manners was a novelty, but–

He considered the lupine spirit, its gangly, and weakened figure.

He could swear it was waiting for something, for him to do, or give–

His eyes widened.

Miles knew of many ways to tame animals, but the easiest way has always been feeding. Even the proudest of beasts would be tamed by the one that provides it nourishment.

It was obvious this wolf was desperate. There could be no better 'carrot' to offer.

Miles was not learned in the cuisine of Wolven shades, but he did know one thing it loved to feed on and had been feeding on this entire time.

Himself.

Miles extended his hand again, not palm first, but bent. Wrist and elbow parallel to his chest, offered freely.

The difference in the wolf’s demeanor was palpable.

It did not growl this time, and most importantly, it did not lunge and rip apart his hand.

Instead, it ventured closer, slowly, and began to sniff his arm.

Miles was excited but he couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Can you even smell in the mind world?’

Suddenly something wet and rough brushed over his forearm. He barely had time to realize he had just been licked by the wolf when…

Its maw opened, slowly.

Every other time, it had struck hard and fast, but now, it revealed yellowed fangs, rotten and degraded, the culprit clearly visible to be splotches of black ichor.

The wolf sunk its teeth into his arm, Miles flinched, but… he barely felt any pain. If nothing else, the dark tar on its teeth should have burned him, but there was nothing.

He could see the blood trickling down though, he could feel his heart beating harder than it ever had, but that was it. He was somehow nourishing this animal.

This continued for barely a few minutes, when the wolf graciously and calmly let go.

For a second time their eyes met and this time, Miles saw way more than he had ever before.

Those eyes were a faded, polluted gold, revealing the hints of something once grand and royal, strangely familiar.

Miles almost felt a newly formed connection, as if he and the wolf were somehow equals, at least in the context of this situation.

Even so, he froze when a sudden thunderous growl echoed through the realm, rippling through the shattered skies and the corrupted waters.

The wolf was growling in rage, louder than it had ever before, but this was not at him. Its gaze was directed at one of the larger pools of blood red water.

Miles’ gaze flickered towards the source for just a moment, but when he turned back…

The wolf had lowered its head, almost in a bow.

One would expect Miles would have learned a lesson by now, but he acted on instinct again.

For a second time, he reached out with his hand.

The wolf betrayed no motion, and Miles gulped as he reached further.

The world seemed to slow his eyes peeled for a sudden attack, but before Miles knew it, his hand was patting the deadly beast.

Whatever his thoughts on the matter may have been, he could feel what the animal thought of this.

Friendship for friendship. A fair barter, and a Pact thus formed.

That sense of connection between them expanded, enveloping nearly the entire mind world.

The seas began to shake, ripples spread throughout the world and suddenly, the luminous white seas erupted in geysers.

Miles lost all focus on his breathing.

The last he saw were those same seas beginning to expand, albeit slightly. There was no turning of tides just yet, but at least they were energized enough to war against the ichorous corruption.

Thrown back to reality, Miles fell back into the stone dais as if he truly had been, his skull knocking painfully against the oak.

It was strange. He still felt as if he were connected to the Lupine Soul and that connection was had just gone beyond the both of them.

Miles opened his eyes and– blinked. Everything was forgotten by the breath-taking sight that awaited him.

The very air, or rather the reality of the doorway itself had changed.

He could see the currents and eddies flowing, there movements whispered by Aeola herself. There were also illogical contusions, confluxes of unnatural nature, among them.

Miles had experienced something similar to this, back in the Faesycian’s clinic. But he had not seen what came next.

Seeping out of those gaps were what seemed to be endless hordes of flickering orbs, glowing and pulsing with colored lights.

Aatma. Of creatures, objects, ideas, aspects and thoughts, all from beyond the true Veil.

Miles couldn’t help but be entranced.

Even as he watched, these strange manifestations appeared and disappeared, like thoughts from a discordant mind. Every glance, every moment of focus, every perception revealed something new.

His gaze was pulled to the side by the sheer luminosity of one such manifestation.

It nearly blinded him, for it seemed to be the brightest of all that he could see, and Miles was forced to squint to see through the glaring light. It was a viridian emerald glow, and he could swear the glowing cadence tipped its… ‘Light? Energy? Form?’ in recognition and greeting.

Then, he felt it.

The trees, the grove itself, reaching out to him with an outstretched hand, offering another connection, another… pact.

Peace of mind, clarity of thought, and foresight.

Miles didn’t think much further and reached out as well, but this time he failed. The… trees were kind enough to tell him why.

Nothing to barter, no balance, no pact.

That sense of holding half of a connection vanished, as if an offer had been rescinded.

Miles barely felt the sting of the refusal, for the other lights around him were still focused upon him.

There was a bolt of lightning, a whirl of water, a fog of darkness, skeletons, explosions, creatures (fae and human alike), animals (including fae beasts), and so much more.

They were all considering him, measuring his worth.

Suddenly, through all the glaring lights and glows, a second burst of color caught his eye. A vivid tangerine orange.

Miles's head snapped towards the thick brush, noting the sharp eyes that were peering through the shrubbery.

The leaves rustled as the flash of bright orange began to move away, but Miles had already pounced off of the stone dais.

He felt the expanded connection to the Lupine Soul return to normal, and the colorful forms of floating light winked away, as if a switch had been flipped off.

But Miles didn’t care, for his sights were set on a target.

In a matter of seconds, he managed to reach the brush where he had seen the orange light, but the figure was on the run. It was some manner of small creature. About the size of an extremely small person, about goblin sized.

It was fast, but Miles exploded forth with nameless movement, overshadowing its speed easily.

He was not familiar with a goblin clan that had orange hair, a tendency to use leather clothes, and… fair skin?

Miles almost froze in disbelief.

It was a child, that little girl. That same fae girl he had thought had dead to the Hordred rats but had somehow managed to escape the maze.

‘Did she sneak out while I was asleep?’

“Wait!” Miles shouted after her, but all it took was a single step, her figure retreated behind a tree for a mere second, and…

He completely lost her.

There were no traces of aether, teleportation, discordant air currents, or even a strand of scent for him to trace. Nor could he see any more orange flashes.

Miles had never sensed her presence, not even in the maze, and he could not sense her now either.

It was as if she appeared from nothing and vanished into nothing.